


A Cold Day as a Powerless Elemental

by random_nerd_posts



Category: Original Work
Genre: PTSD, Sibling feuding, Whump, cold day prompt, survivor's guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27598364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/random_nerd_posts/pseuds/random_nerd_posts
Summary: Lillian sighed as she sat up wiped, what she seemed to her to be sweat, her eyes. She left her room with a black winter blazer, a blue-gold scarf, black skinny jeans, brown knee-high boots and a light grey winter beanie with a fuzzy pom. Her hot chocolate is still sitting in the window sill. Waiting and forgotten.~~~Foxen’s shoulders shook. Tears slid down her face as she sobbed as the tears fell into her ears and onto the comforter. She tried, for over ten thousand years, to make amends with her sister. But now she understood.Lillianwas the one who should apologize. And Foxen didn’t want to hear it. Nothing could save her from the demons that Lillian had forced into Foxen’s head. Nothing. And yet, here Foxen was, sobbing because she finally accepted the truth. Her truth.And yet she remained. Wanting to be forgotten.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	A Cold Day as a Powerless Elemental

**Lillian**

Lillian sighed as she looked out the window into the outside world. The leaves were falling off of the trees outside of her apartment as the snow was falling. Usually, the snow would be falling on naked trees, but the weather got cold fast this year. So this is what the people see now.

“Over ten thousand years,” Lillian mumbled as she looked out the window. “I’ve been willing to take people’s lives. For over ten thousand years and now that I’m here, with nothing. I’m content.”

Now, Lillian is a person with a lot of money and little media to back her up. She lives in a nice apartment in a busy city, and yet no one knows her as the cold blooded murderer her sister has nightmares about.

“To think that I lived over ten thousand years, all thanks to me unlocking the truth to being an elemental. Probably should’ve been nicer to Foxen instead of trying to kill her off,” Lillian kept speaking quietly to herself. “Though, the bitch still pisses me off.”

Taking the cup in her hands, that she had completely forgotten about, she took a sip of the cold chocolate drink. Sighing, she put it onto the window sill and sauntered into her room. Laying on the bed, Lillian sighed as she closed her eyes.

She then imagined flames being sent out of her body towards her parents. The screams left a sour taste in her mouth now when back then it fueled her murder spree. She could envision the guards stroming up to the room, seeing the flames in the library, the burns on her arms. The joy in Lillian’s face.

Lillian sighed as she sat up wiped, what seemed to be sweat, her eyes. She left her room with a black winter blazer, a blue-gold scarf, black skinny jeans, brown knee-high boots and a light grey winter beanie with a fuzzy pom. Her hot chocolate is still sitting in the window sill. Waiting and forgotten.

* * *

* * *

* * *

**Foxen**

Foxen looked out the window to see the snow falling, the leaves being covered up by the big fluffy frozen droplets of water, and she smiled. She never did know why she smiled when everything had lost it’s joy a long time ago. But, here she was, smiling as the snow fell. Reminded of the fateful day.

Looking at the plains of the ground, the bodies, bloodied. She remembered walking past the bodies and looking over the cliff to see tiny bodies on the bank of the raging river. Anyone who fell into the water would have been swept away already.

It was an odd scene for the beauty of the snow. It fell, not caring if it fell on a loved one, or a tortured soul. So, Foxen left, leaving the dead to rest.

Blinking, Foxen looked in her own reflection in the window. She saw the marks of fire Lillian left on her skin, brandished as an outcast. Telling the world “I am a survivor.”

But was she really? Was she a survivor? Did she really survive the horrors, or was she just _coping with the pain_ . Foxen sighed as she turned away from the transparent pane, hiding her pained expression from the world because _they can’t know_. Going into her room, sitting on the bed, her phone buzzed.

_From: Lillian_

Foxen threw her phone to the foot of the bed where she heard a thunk of it hitting the floor. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to hear what lame excuse her sister had now. She didn’t want to see Lillian. She didn’t want to hear from Lillian. She was done with the bitch.

Foxen’s shoulders shook. Tears slid down her face as she sobbed as the tears fell into her ears and onto the comforter. She tried, for over ten thousand years, to make amends with her sister. But now she understood. _Lillian_ was the one who should apologize. And Foxen didn’t want to hear it. Nothing could save her from the demons that Lillian had forced into Foxen’s head. Nothing. And yet, here Foxen was, sobbing because she finally accepted the truth. Her truth.

And yet she remained. Wanting to be forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> Artwork done by me.


End file.
